


Fighting Ghosts

by HokumorosPhiltatos



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Art therapy!, Art used as therapy, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Author Will Update Tags as Needed, Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Depression, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gay Panic, Gay Zuko (Avatar), Hurt Sokka (Avatar), Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, Iroh (Avatar) loves Tea, Multi, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Sokka (Avatar), Skateboarding, Smoking, Social Anxiety, Soft Zuko, Suicidal Thoughts, The Jasmine Dragon (Avatar), Underage Smoking, Zuko (Avatar) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, and Sokka is the OG bi disaster, i don't make the rules, toph is a lesbian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:34:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26136574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HokumorosPhiltatos/pseuds/HokumorosPhiltatos
Summary: Sometimes Sokka can't breathe.Sometimes all Zuko can feel are the phantom pains.This is a story of two boys who are trying desperately to heal but don't know how to.Updates are slowly returning to once a week.
Relationships: Aang & Zuko (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar), Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar), Toph Beifong & Zuko, past Zuko/Jet
Comments: 37
Kudos: 140





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!
> 
> So a quick note, I do not know how long I expect this book to be, i will update the tags as I go, and my updates might be sporadic considering school exists....
> 
> Anyway enjoy!

Tonight was a bad night. Sokka starts to feel the walls in his room close in around him and it just gets worse and worse. Once his vision starts to blur and his breathing picks up he shoves his window up and slides out into the night, grabbing his shoes from their place on the sill as he goes. He walks up and down the main drag of his tiny nowhere town aimlessly, allowing his anxiety to guide his feet. He ends up at an abandoned skate park and scales the fence. After dropping down on the other side he strides purposefully to the nearby picnic table and rests his head against the cool wood of the table trying to slow down his breathing. He’s too wrapped up in mastering the panic clawing at his lungs that he doesn't realize he’s not alone. Once Sokka can feel his fingers again and his breathing isn’t jackknifing through him he takes a look around. Noticing the boy, about his age, sitting at the adjacent picnic table with a lighter in his hand and a skateboard by his feet. 

Zuko had been sitting for a while, since tiring himself out skating, content to let the flickering flame of his lighter calm the roaring in his veins and soothe the phantom pains washing over his body. He heard rather than saw the other boy drop over the fence. He closes his lighter and observes the boy stumble to the picnic table, chest rising and falling with the too fast rhythm of panic Zuko himself knows all too well. His eyes look the stranger up and down, curiosity piqued despite himself. The boy was wearing a navy tee shirt with white sleeves and white jeans that accent his caramel skin tone, but the most interesting feature was his face. Angular and attractive, he had a sharp jawline further accentuated by the shaved sides of his head and wolf's tail he wore his dark hair in. Zuko shrugged inwardly and opened his lighter again, apparently the stranger heard the soft click and looked up as well. 

The boy was beautiful, Sokka thought, jet black hair hanging loosely around his face framing milky skin, golden eyes, and a striking scar that looked suspiciously like a burn curving around his left eye and stretching up into his hairline. A too large band shirt was tucked into black ripped jeans and long fingers fiddled with the lighter in his hands. “Hey.” The stranger’s voice was smooth and rich with a light rasp. Sokka flicked his gaze upward, his eyes meeting burnished gold as the stranger searches his gaze and frowns as if confused. “Seems like a nice night for a walk.” The stranger gestures at the clear starry sky and Sokka gives him a half smile. He uncurls from his position and hops up onto the strangers table.

“It is.” Sokka agrees, tapping his foot on the bench where the stranger and his board rest. The stranger has returned his gaze to the flame of his lighter so Sokka startles a bit when he’s asked another question. 

“Do you skate?” The stranger asks, gesturing at the board. “I’m Zuko by the way.” 

“Sokka, and not in a very long time. I prefer to swim.” He doesn’t know why he says it but the stranger, Zuko nods slightly. 

“Well Sokka who swims, what brings you to this place at this time of night?” As soon as Zuko asks, he wishes he could shove the words back into his mouth. Stupid, he tells himself, that was stupid. Sokka just looks amused.

“I’ll trade you and answer for an answer, question for a question, full honesty?” Zuko nods slightly. “I needed to be in the open. What's with the lighter?” 

Zuko hums appreciatively, straight to the point, he likes that. “Clears my head.” He responds, “ You do that often, run away?” Because ultimately that's what Sokka is doing, running from something. Sokka recoils for a moment and Zuko almost retracts the question when Sokka laughs. 

“Yeah, I guess I do. That scar have anything to do with why you keep me in your sights at all times?” Zuko meets Sokka’s amused stare, The question’s blatant enough to be rude on so many levels but he’s not offended. 

“No, I can’t see well out of my left eye and I prefer to know what’s going on. Who are you running from?” Zuko knows that look, the one that says Sokka is hurting, is scarred from too many things. Sokka quirks an eyebrow and looks thoughtful. 

“Myself I guess, sometimes I just need to leave for a while, leave my thoughts behind. That lighter give you that scar?” Zuko blinks, then pulls out a cigarette, offers one to Sokka. The lighter flicks open again and Sokka leans forward to light his cigarette. After Zuko lights his own, he takes a long drag and blows it out. 

“I mouthed off to my father one time too many.” Zuko shrugs. Sokka lets out a dark chuckle.

“That is a rough day buddy. Aish I thought my father's abandonment and mother's death was bad.” He’s full on laughing now, sharp little giggles just this side of manic. Zuko raises an eyebrow and blows a ring of smoke at his face, smiling lightly.

Sokka can’t stop laughing, sometimes after he begins, he starts crying. His tears carve trails down his cheeks, dripping off his jaw. Zuko just waits, he reaches one hand for the cigarette Sokka has clutched in his fingers when it comes close to burning him. Sokka gives it to him and he stubs it out, and he waits. Waits for Sokka to be okay again, willing to witness until he’s okay again. 

“ I shouldn't have said that, it was insensitive, my apologies.” Sokka finally says and Zuko waves his apology away. 

“No harm done, I’m not offended.” Sokka shoots him a look and Zuko pats his knee lightly. Sokka grasps at his hand and Zuko stiffens. Sokka lets go as if he’s been burned. 

“I’m so sorry.” He breathes, “ I absolutely wasn’t thinking, that was so stupid of me.” He falls silent when he realizes Zuko hasn’t let go.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys meet up. 
> 
> Sokka learns a thing. 
> 
> An Zuko...has a not very fun night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I'm back with the angst.....I know, I know the healing will begin soon I promise. I want to post a small warning. There are some graphic descriptions of burns, homophobia, and abuse in this chapter I have marked the starting point with "^^^^" and it continues to the end of the chapter. 
> 
> If there's any other things you'd like me to mark in this chapter or in others please let me know!

Zuko squeezes Sokka’s hand experimentally and links their fingers together. “ It’s okay, this is nice.” Zuko’s thumb strokes along the side of Sokka’s hand slowly, “ And to answer your desperate question, I’m okay. I was just surprised. It’s been a while since anyone has touched me.” Zuko shrugs it off and Sokka can’t breathe. He looks at Zuko’s face, heartbreaking honesty lies there in those strange golden eyes.

They sit for what seems like forever, making the occasional idle comment to break the stillness. As the pink and orange hues of dawn appear Sokka squeezes Zuko’s hand one last time and gets up. “It’s been a good night, thanks for the company.” Zuko inclines his head and wrestles his skateboard under his arm. 

“You know, I’m usually around here skating, if you… wanna make this a regular thing.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind, see you around Zuko.” Sokka says over his shoulder as he hops the fence.

*****

The day after was a blur for Sokka with his only relevant thoughts being of a scarred golden eyed boy and the eagerness to head to a certain skate park. So as Sokka sat down to dinner he heard Gran Gran and Katara’s questions, heard Katara gush about her boyfriend, Aang, but Sokka couldn’t for the life of him remember his responses. 

Across town, as Sokka headed to his bed to wait for darkness, in a window framed by various art pieces and band memorabilia Zuko mechanically sparked his lighter. His mind started to drift and clear as he focused on a boy who moved like the sea. Unrelenting and steady ebb and flow. He closed his eyes and saw fire, the sea, and the boy who was both. 

Sometime later, Zuko slid out of his window leaving the misty ocean air to soak his room. Uncle Iroh somehow always knew when Zuko shimmied down the fire escape above the Jasmine Dragon, skateboard in hand, and coasted to somewhere lonely. Because there was always a warm pot of Jasmine tea on Zuko's desk when he returned home. The thought made him smile as he coasted toward the park. He wondered when Sokka would show, if he showed.

Sokka, meanwhile, was running himself straight into a panic attack. He had headed out around ten wanting to take a run before heading to meet up with Zuko. He knew logically that it would be highly unlikely that Zuko wouldn’t be there to meet him, after all he was the one to bring up the meeting, but Sokka couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight was different. That Zuko hadn’t invited him but instead had just made a statement. Sokka had almost convinced himself to turn around when he picked up the sound of wheels on pavement behind him.   
“What are the chances! Just the man I was coming to see.” Zuko’s tone was playful and Sokka’s anxiety receded slightly. 

“Well, you did come to see me.” Sokka grinned broadly, throwing Zuko a half shrug as he slowed his pace to a walk. “So. You really skate huh? I thought the board was just for show and that you were fucking with me.’’ 

“Did you now?” He mutters, “Well I suppose I’ll have to throw you in the nearest pool to make sure you actually swim and not just sink because of your thick skull.”

“Ouch...but you know the rules, you throw me in, you’re coming in with me. Just saying.” Zuko threw Sokka a look of feigned outrage. Sokka held up his hands placatingly,”We’re here by the way.” 

They stopped just outside the chained gate and Zuko kicked up his board, hauling it up under his arm. He threw Sokka a wicked grin and gestured at the expanse of fence. “ If I can get in without climbing the fence, you owe me two free questions in our game?” Sokka raised one unimpressed eyebrow.

“You’re on.” Zuko just smirked and turned to face the lock. He picked it up and pretended to study it for a moment before giving it a firm whack against the closest fence pole. The lock popped open and Sokka gaped openly. 

“ When I first started coming here,” Zuko says while unwinding the chain, “I busted the spring in the lock so I could come and go as I pleased.” 

Sokka snorts, “Sounds like the normal angsty teenage behavior to me.” After slipping through the gate they walked to the table that was unspokenly theirs now, and sat, well in Sokka’s case lied, down. “You wanna take those turns now?” Zuko mulls it over. 

“Nah, I’ll save them for when you're too chicken shit to be specific.” Comes the response and Sokka laughs.

“Well then, what’s your favorite colour and why? Yes, that is one question.” 

“Gold,” Zuko says after a minute, “With a red undertone. My mom used to wear a similar colour, to offset her eyes and her hair.” He looks wistful.

“What's your favorite band swimmer boy?”

“The beatles, favorite singer?”

“Correct answer and Matt Maeson currently.” Zuko looks almost shy, Sokka notices, which is interesting considering they’re only talking about music. He chalks it up to sentimentality when zuko suddenly blurts out. “Are you straight?” Zuko claps a hand over his mouth as if trying to keep anything else from spilling out.

“Nope! I’m bisexual, did the hairstyle give it away?” Sokka smirks, laughing lightly. Zuko still looks pained. A second before he raises his hand to pat Zuko’s shoulder, Sokka remembers Zuko doesn’t like being touched. 

“It’s fine Zuko. Honestly, I’m pretty much an open book.” Sokka smiles again, softer, and Zuko removes his hand from around his mouth.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I asked that.” And it’s Sokka’s turn to wave Zuko’s apology away. 

“I said full honesty and anything you wanted to know, remember? It’s okay, I promise.”

“Are you straight?” Sokka asks and Zuko almost recoils, he takes a deep breath.

“No.” He whispers. He expects Sokka to make fun of him like Azula did or laugh like his friends did or even ask for a specific sexuality like the advisors did. He doesn’t expect Sokka to hold up his hands in offering and he certainly doesn't expect Sokka to squeeze his fingers and reassure him.

“Hey. It’s okay Zuko, it took me a long time to accept myself too. I was terrified of coming out to my family and school especially.” Sokka grimaces, “I had a bit of a reputation.” Zuko can’t believe it. He...calm, self assured, ‘I’m an open book” Sokka had problems with coming out. But Sokka wasn’t him, Sokka didn’t know his father, Sokka didn’t know how scary Ozai could be when he was angry. 

^^^^^  
And suddenly all Zuko could see was fire. He was burning. His face was blistering, flesh peeling off, and the smell. He gagged, hauling himself onto the ground and on his knees. He couldn’t hear Sokka’s soothing murmurs, couldn't feel Sokka holding his hair back as he retched on the concrete. All he could see was his father’s stone cold glare, the roaring fire, and the hot iron. He felt the iron connect and the blinding pain in his left side. He passed out listening to the same words he had heard in his father’s study that night three years ago.

“That’ll teach you some respect, you faggot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O.O   
> I warned you....I'm still sorry though, I don't like putting out resident soft boy through so much pain. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos make my day! Thanks for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko has a break down and Sokka helps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my fucking god. School started up again this past week and I am suffering...eternally suffering. Who needs four assignments on future goals and the history of light bulbs??? 
> 
> I am so so sorry I am late and that this chapter is a bit shorter than my others. I promise next chapter will be longer to make up for it. Enjoy some angst, fluff and gay panic! 
> 
> Warnings: graphic description of flashbacks and abuse but it's light.

When Zuko began dry heaving onto the concrete, Sokka knew. He knew Zuko wasn’t there with him right now, he was in a different time and place. He hopped down from the table and tugged the other boy into his lap so Zuko didn’t smack his head on the concrete but he shouldn’t have worried, Zuko was still as stone. Sokka felt Zuko suddenly sag against his arms and carried him to the bench of the picnic table. He settled zuko’s head on his jacket and sat by him to wait.

Zuko came to suddenly and violently. His eyes shot open and he was on his feet in an instant, swaying slightly. He looked around owlishly and his eyes landed on Sokka. It came back slowly, where he was and who he was with. 

“Hey...Zuko, you back with me?” Sokka murmured quietly, getting to his feet as well. Zuko nodded slowly, eyes trained on the concrete. 

“I-” He started but Sokka beat him to it. 

“Visual, Auditory, or Physical?” 

“What?” Zuko asked stupidly.

“Your flashback. Could you hear what happened, see it, or feel it?” 

“How did you-” Zuko cut himself off. “All of them.” 

Sokka nodded, “I have a friend, my sister’s boyfriend actually, Aang. He used to get flashbacks a lot, they were usually visual and/or auditory and weren’t traumatic.” 

“I see. Mine are… usually pretty bad, it’s been a while since I've had one that intense though.” Zuko confessed.

Sokka took a couple of steps forward to stand at Zuko’s side. “Can I hug you? Aang used physical touch as a grounding tool after his flashbacks to pull himself back into the present.” Zuko debated, he believed Sokka wouldn’t hurt him he just had to make his still trembling body believe it too. He finally held out one arm and Sokka embraced him firmly, smoothing one hand down Zuko’s spine and cupping his neck with the other. Zuko tensed a little adjusting to the touch. He rested his forehead on Sokka's shoulder and let out a broken sign. 

“When…” Zuko swallowed. “When I was thirteen, my- my father..” 

“ Hey. You don’t owe me an explanation. Let yourself heal first then if you need to talk you can.” Zuko let out another trembling breath. “ You can cry, you know? It doesn’t make you weak or whatever toxic bullshit you were made to believe.” 

Sokka understood that Zuko needed to know, he needed to know no one would look down on him. Sokka also knew that no one had held Zuko in a long time and that wasn’t right. Even if he was a stranger, even if they weren’t close, he deserved someone to be there and Sokka was there. 

And that did it. The floodgates opened and Zuko’s chest caved, he let out a broken sob and Sokka pulled him closer. He didn’t want to cry but his body was on a different schedule. He shuddered out gasp after gasp, fisting his hands in the material of Sokka’s shirt. And Sokka held him through it all. 

When zuko was finally cried out he sat down wearily and wiped his eyes and nose on his sleeve. 

“Thank you.” He whispered, barely audibly. 

“Any time.” Sokka pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Zuko. It was a phone number, his phone number. 

“Here, I know it’s not much but if you need to talk when we aren’t here. Aish, you can text or call any time.” Sokka flushed red and scratched the back of his neck. Zuko looked at him incredulously. 

“ Seriously? We like barely know each other…” It was Sokka's turn to look at him wide eyed and he snorted. 

“In case you didn’t know, idiot, I don’t have a lot of friends and I consider you a friend.” Sokka stared hard at him “ And that means I will be available for you, if you need me.” 

Zuko forcibly turned away and crushed the paper, he put it in his pocket anyway, and Sokka counted it as a victory. Zuko tipped his head toward the night sky and produced his lighter, immediately sparking it. He needed to get a grip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oml I can so see Zuko as a panic gay, Sokka is so chill I love it but he's internally freaking out. 
> 
> Anyways, happy reading and as always comments and kudos make my day!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko deals with depression, Sokka has a moment and gay panic is a relevant emotion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people, 
> 
> So I got inspired and decided that I was gonna upload again. Oh I make these boys hurt...*hides behind my computer* I'm so sorry. But anyway, buckle up for a chapter fueled my own mental illness and 2am caffeine fueled writing inspiration. 
> 
> Trigger warnings: Mentions of physical abuse, flashbacks.

By the next morning it was painfully apparent that Zuko had not gotten a grip. He had stumbled through his window around 4 am and was too wound up by his flashback to even touch the pot of tea Iroh had no doubt left. He settled for pacing until his uncle woke up to open the shop around 5:30. Iroh wordlessly replaced the tea with a fresh pot and set two melatonin tablets beside it. 

It was an offer to allow the world to slip away for a little while. To allow Zuko to get the sleep he was so desperately avoiding and Zuko sighed. He washed the sleep aid down with two swallows of tea and fell into a fitful sleep. 

When Zuko rose again it was late afternoon and the shop was hitting its midday rush. Having no motivation to leave his bed, Zuko blankly stared at his ceiling while wave after wave of   
post - traumatic stress washed over him. It started with the phantom pains squeezing his wrists, trailing fire over his left eye, kicking and punching bruises into his ribs. Then came the flashbacks, the whispered threats and screamed obscenities. Finally he was left alternating every few seconds between hyperventilating panic and the nothingness of dissociation. This continued for a few more hellish hours as Zuko’s mind fought to protect itself from the past. He drifted just above the surface of sleep, content to allow his mind to fight it out. This is what mental illness feels like, he mused. 

When his mind had finally settled somewhat Zuko hauled himself into the bathroom for a shower. He scrubbed the day’s bullshit off his skin and washed the oil out of his shaggy hair resolving to let it grow out so he could put it up again. Once done he began the painstaking process of going to get food. It wasn’t physically difficult, go downstairs, pick something out and make it, but convincing his mind he needed food to survive. That was another beast entirely. 

He’d made it to the back room of the tea shop which doubled as the kitchen and was in the process of opening the pantry when uncle Iroh came up on his right. 

“Nephew. I was just about to make dinner as well, would you like to eat together?” Zuko was aghast, He knew his uncle was in tune with his emotions sometimes better than Zuko himself but he’d forgotten how truly perceptive and kind Iroh was. 

“Thank you.” He murmured as his uncle gave him a soft smile and squeezed his shoulder. Soon there were two steaming bowls of noodles in front of them. Zuko would be eternally grateful for his uncle’s act, for him to be there silently encouraging. Once they were finished eating in comfortable silence, Zuko washed the dishes as Iroh readied for bed and another early morning. 

Ten minutes later, all was quiet and Zuko crept silently back up the stairs and into his bedroom. He glanced at the clock, 10:30, and threw on his sweatshirt searching the front pocket for his lighter. His fingers met crumpled paper and he pulled out Sokka’s number. 

He uncrumpled it as best he could and put the number into his phone. He looked down again, there was a note along with the number. 

Zuko,   
In case I don’t tell you in person, here’s my #. Call or text anytime you need.

S

He grinned and fired off a text to Sokka. 

Skate park, 15 min. Don’t be late  
With that, he made his way to the skate park as well. He walked through the gate a few minutes later and left it unchained behind him. Sokka jogged over out of breath five minutes later.

“Did you run all the way here?” Zuko asked, amused.

“Maybe, what about it.” 

Zuko shook his head and produced a pack of cigarettes seemingly out of thin air, offering one to Sokka. Said boy pulled out a stick and handed it to Zuko. Zuko shot him a questioning glance.

“I don’t smoke.” He shrugged

“What was with the cigarette at our first meeting?” 

“Did you see me take a drag off of it?” Zuko thought back, as it turned out he hadn’t seen Sokka inhale the smoke at all. 

“Interesting, a boy who doesn’t smoke but takes cigarettes occasionally anyway.” Zuko took a last long drag off his cigarette letting the smoke settle in his lungs and on his tongue. Sokka shook his head ruefully, he didn’t need to explain himself. 

“Are you thinking of running again?” zuko queried sometime later, gesturing at Sokka’s currently bouncing leg. 

“No” The word was clipped, “ I want to ask something.” Zuko waved a hand for him to continue.  
“Do you smoke with the hope that you’ll feel something or with the hope that you’ll cease to exist?” 

Zuko rasped out a loud chuckle, “Out of everything you could ask…” He laughs again and shrugs. “Both, I guess, depends on the moment. If you’re speaking of now, probably to feel, I’m a bit fucked at the current moment.” He taps his temple with his free hand. 

Sokka nods. He understands Zuko’s answer but it doesn’t sit right with him. He realizes he wants Zuko to acknowledge his own pain, he wants him to want to be there. And that’s a scary thought, because historically Sokka wanting people to live doesn’t tend to end well. His mother, Yue… And suddenly he’s freefalling into his grief, but then Zuko hands him his sweatshirt and he slams face first into a mental wall. 

Zuko could see Sokka progressively become more jittery, he seemed two seconds away from falling to pieces and Zuko was lost. He gave Sokka his sweatshirt to quell the shivering but by Sokka’s reaction he guessed he’d done more than that. As twin tears slipped from Sokka’s eyes, Zuko panicked. 

He didn’t know how to deal with a crying person, Azula didn’t cry and he didn’t remember what his mother had done to comfort him. He tried to emulate Iroh’s calming energy and awkwardly patted Sokka’s back for a few minutes. It wasn't helping.

“I’m pretty sure that whatever it is that has you looking like a frightened rabbit isn’t worth hyperventilating over. Breathe Sokka.” He says sternly, grasping Sokka’s jaw and turning his face toward Zuko’s own. He fumbles for Sokka’s hand and places it over his lungs, ignoring his own revulsion, and allowing Sokka to feel his steady breaths. Once Sokka is pulling in oxygen at a normal rate Zuko lets go of his hand and jaw and waits. 

“Let me keep your cigarettes.” Zuko’s eyebrows shoot up. 

“You have some nerve. You wanna tell me why that’s a good idea Mr. I don’t smoke?”

“So that when you want to die there’s a reminder that someone would miss you.” 

“Well it’s nice to know the only person who will mourn at my funeral is a stranger, the answer is no.” 

“ I would.” Sokka agrees, “ But that’s because I know what it feels like to lose someone that way.” 

Zuko blinks and then stares hard at Sokka who refuses to look away. Zuko props his head on his right hand as his left digs around in his pocket. The fear of losing a coping mechanism but Sokka’s confession hits deeper. He rationalizes it to himself with a mental shrug, he could always go out and buy another pack. 

“There are ten sticks in here”, he shakes the pack. “If I find out there are any less the next time we see eachother I will take them back. Don’t try to replace them either, I know the difference, and you will bring them any time we are to see each other, deal?” Sokka holds out his hand.

“Deal?” Zuko repeats and Sokka nods. He hands over the pack and Sokka stuffs it away. When Sokka looks back up Zuko’s face is closer than it was before, probably from Zuko watching him. His eyes are so pretty, Sokka thinks, like little gold pools.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOH I left y'all on a bit of a cliffhanger....Hehe the next chapter will tie up those loose ends I promise...;))))  
> All the cringey comforting as well, Zuko's an idiot sometimes but I love him.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos really do make my day, seriously, y'all are so sweet, thank you! 
> 
> Happy reading


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which reflections are made and Sokka gets wet and needs coffee and gay panic is THRIVING.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, 
> 
> I'm back! Good lord school sucks, I've had the stream of endless essays it seems and I've been suffering through hell the whole time. Any way, I'm back and best boys are too. 
> 
> Trigger warnings: reference to su!cide and drowning but it's super brief, fluff....all the fluff

Zuko searches Sokka’s gaze again, looking for negative intent, finding none he leans back. 

“Who did you lose?” Zuko asks softly. 

“My mom...and a partner.” Sokka looks a thousand years old and Zuko worries his bottom lip. He nods in acceptance and allows Sokka silence to elaborate if he wishes. 

“We lost her, my mom, to the sea. She just walked out one day and we found her sweater and necklace nestled together a little way down the coast from our house.” Sokka looks down slightly.

“I know that feeling.” Sokka turns to look at him, “I lost my mom young too, I was ten.” 

“It’s been eight years and I still remember that day. I still remember frantically running to look for her. I remember Katara, my sister, finding the necklace and sweater. I remember my father slipping away for months until one day he didn’t come home to my sister and I and our grandmother taking us in. Katara never took off that necklace.” He reflects. “ But for the life of me I can’t remember my mom's face, I can’t remember what it felt to be held by her or what her smile looked like.” He gestured helplessly and Zuko couldn’t decide if it was worse to remember or forget. 

“Sokka,” He said eventually, “ you don’t have to remember, remembering doesn’t mean you loved her any more, just like no remembering doesn’t mean you loved her any less. You loved her and she’s gone. I’m using one of my turns now, who’s necklace do you wear?” 

He had noticed the necklace more as they had seen each other. The choker of bones and teeth Sokka wore, the ivory was carved and polished, and covered half the length of his throat. 

“My father’s.” He waved dismissively, “ One of the elders in my family made it a long time ago and it’s been passed down, he left it when he abandoned us.” 

Zuko gave him a tight smile. “I should probably head out soon, I have a morning shift tomorrow.” Zuko hops down and gives Sokka a two finger salute and walks him to the fence, they part ways and head to their respective ways. 

When Sokka gets home, he drifts off slowly but easily. And when he dreams he dreams of golden eyes and a smile. 

***  
The next morning Sokka wakes earlier than normal and is inspired to go for a swim. He shimmies out the window in a t-shirt and swim trunks aiming for quiet. He walks to the school, which has a pool nearby that Varsity swimmers have keys to and ducks in. He shucks off his shirt on the indoor pool deck and dives into the crystalline water.  
Sokka swims a few laps to warm up and floats a bit, he closes his eyes while allowing his body to be carried around the pool. He thinks about Zuko’s reaction to his mother’s suicide and about Zuko’s own mother. He realizes he doesn’t know much about her except that she’s gone. He sinks a bit and kicks toward the surface resolving to do a few more laps at top speed. 

When he finishes up, he picks up his shirt, showers and slips out quietly. As he heads back he passes a small tea and coffee shop, The Jasmine Dragon, and figures since he can’t function without caffeine he might as well get a coffee. 

He tugs open the worn wooden door, taking in the walls tastefully decorated and the soft chairs and booths. He looks behind the counter and startles a bit. Standing there, in a green apron, hair tied back is Zuko. Zuko’s helping a woman ring up her tea with an easy smile and Sokka immediately gets in line behind her. When she heads out with a cheery wave, Zuko smiles even brighter. 

“Fancy meeting you here stranger.” 

“Guess this is what you meant when you said you had the morning shift. Can I get a latte?”

Zuko mulls it over. “I suppose you can, it’s on the house.” 

“Absolutely not.” Sokka pulls out his wallet but Zuko is already making his coffee, he grumbles and throws a ten in the tip jar before sliding into a booth to wait. Zuko makes his latte with a practiced hand and soon heads over with the cup and what looks suspiciously like a muffin. He slides into the booth as well. 

“I don’t suppose the muffin is yours is it?” Sokka sniffs when Zuko slides the muffin and coffee across the table.

“Nah. But I promise they’re good, I think I’ve perfected the recipe this time.” Sokka quirks and eyebrow while Zuko shoves his arm. 

“ Then I have to eat it now.” He unwraps the muffin and takes a huge bite. “ Oh it's perfect, lemon and poppyseed right?” Sokka asks, spraying Zuko with crumbs in the process. He nods. Suddenly, the door to the presumed kitchen opens and an older man spills out.

“Nephew, I swear those cookies are never able to be shaped correctly. Oh. Hello there, Zuko who is this lovely young man?” Zuko shakes his head and Sokka gets a look at the stranger. He looks similar to Zuko but with greying hair and many laugh lines.

“Uncle Iroh this is my friend Sokka, Sokka this is my uncle and owner of the shop, Iroh. And uncle, did you put in the two cups of flour instead of one and a half, it stiffens the dough.” Sokka holds out a hand to Iroh and Iroh just beckons him out of the booth. He flds Sokka into a hug immediately and Sokka sends a panicked glance at Zuko. The bastard just smirks. 

“Well I’ll leave you boys to it then.” iroh says, heading back to the kitchen. 

“ Am I interrupting your shift? Do you need to go?” Sokka says sliding once again into the booth. 

Are you kidding? Uncle practically leaps for joy any time I talk to a customer beyond asking them their order. I literally talk to like...two people. You and my best friend Mai and she lives cross country, plus,” He gestures at the empty store. “There’s no one here.” 

Sokka takes a long drink of his coffee and alternates between that and his muffin until he spots the door again.

“So, a tea shop… it’s homey, I like it. Also cool mural around the door by the way.” the mural is of lilies of varying sizes and every colour of the rainbow, twisting to create a sort of archway around the door. 

“ thanks, I painted them when we first opened, right after I….came out.” Sokka gaped and Zuko laughed. “You should see your face.”

Sokka noticed that when Zuko smiled, his eyes wrinkled up at the corners and those same eyes lit up with laughter. Faint laugh lines bit into his sculpted cheeks and Sokka forcibly redirected his attention when Zuko said something, reminding himself to never think about Zuko’s face again. 

“What’re you smiling at? You look like you just saw god or something.” Zuko said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He did see god Zuko, his god any way. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and comments and kudos really do make my day and push me to write more.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sokka makes a promise and Zuko is afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think two week updating might be the time line now...anyway, enjoy this shorter chapter that I wrote in like two hours between sleeping for two hours and training.

“I did.” Sokka mutters.

“Excuse me, you what?” Zuko’s eyes were stone cold and Sokka shuddered. It was such an instant change, one minute they were laughing and the next Zuko looked livid. 

“I did.” He said, more strongly. He knew Zuko's anger was not his own, that it was born of self doubt and insecurity planted by someone else. 

“ I need to get back to work.” Zuko made to get up as his face melted into cool indifference. 

“Is this how you face all your problems? By running away and getting angry whenever anyone is connected to or interested in you?” There was no bite to Sokka’s words, just genuine observation. 

Zuko halted halfway out of the booth to stare at a calm Sokka. “ Someone told you were unnatural and wrong and if I had to guess they also said you were going to burn in hell for eternity didn't they?” Zuko ducked his head and Sokka leaned forward, chin on his knuckles. 

“I’m also willing to bet that you and that person don't have a relationship anymore. If so, why is it that you continually allow their misguided hatred to wreck your self confidence in who you are?” 

Zuko’s head dipped further, Sokka was right, he knew that. He had on occasion admired Sokka as well. He knew logically that there was nothing wrong with his sexuality but it was hard to get the traumatized boy he had been to believe it. He took a steadying breath and cracked his knuckles. 

“Yes. That's all true. To answer your question, I would assume it’s because I never had the opportunity to develop a sense of confidence in who I was.” 

“ I see. I'm going to teach you how then.” Sokka nodded to himself, as if answering an unspoken question and Zuko's eyes widened before he bent over giggling.

“You… the self professed ‘boy with a reputation’...are going to teach me, the boy who's father burnt half his face off for being gay how to…love myself?! You are the most righteous person I have ever met, forget it, this won't end well for you.” Zuko snorted. 

“I don't see what my so-called ‘reputation’ has to do with anything but okay. I also don't see anyone else volunteering to help you clean up your mental health. Tell me, when was the last time you've done anything for yourself?” He held up his hand as Zuko's mouth opened, “ Stress baking muffins at 3 AM does not count, though the muffins were quite tasty.” 

Zuko scowled, “ I resent that those muffins were phenomenal thank you very much. If you get to teach me how to love myself then I get to teach you how to fight. Starting today, running is no longer an option, you stand your ground now.”   
He mulled it over, what was he willing to give up to see Zuko get better. The answer was anything. 

“Alright. Speaking of running, I have stayed too long today. See you tonight Zuko, Ten PM, bring your lighter.” Sokka threw a two fingered salute over his shoulder as he swaggered toward the door with an air that was so distinctly Sokka. Zuko’s mouth quirked up into a smile as he got off the bench. 

About an hour later, after restocking the teas around the shop, Zuko was behind the counter idly drumming his fingers against the counter top. He thought about what Sokka had said, about teaching him to love himself. He had no idea what that even meant? Loving himself...He had concluded Sokka was full of shit when the doorbell rang. He attached an easy smile to his face as he tied his hair back, he had a job to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oop!
> 
> As always comment and kudos fuel my enjoyment and obsession for writing.
> 
> Happy reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Zuko has some panic, Sokka is the best bean, and Toph makes a guest appearance
> 
> Trigger Warnings: mentions of past child abuse, implied and referenced past r**e, referenced Su!c**e

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, it's been way too long. Again. I have no excuse except that school is serving my ass to me on a silver platter but enjoy a lovely chapter of art stores, soft boys, and Toph being the best best friend ever.

As Sokka jogged to the skate park, later that night, he had a realization. “I can’t fix Zuko, I can’t fix him because he’s not broken but I can try my best to help him heal.” 

When Sokka reached the skate park he found Zuko pacing and sparking his lighter faster than he had ever seen him do. “What’s got you in a tizzy?” He called out lightly.

Zuko whipped his head up so far Sokka was surprised he didn’t break his neck. “Woah. It’s just me.” Sokka held up his hands and Zuko’s eyes softened fractionally as they headed to one of the tables.

“My father...got out of prison today.” Zuko murmured as Sokka’s eyes went comically wide. Zuko chook his head, he remembered finishing his shift and showering, remembered Iroh following him to his room and sitting him down, remembered running and Iroh’s solitary tear as he shot out the window so fast he got whiplash.

“I see. Does he know where you are?” Sokka’s voice cut through the fog that was Zuko’s memories.

“Most likely, and if he doesn’t he can find out.” The lighter paused as Zuko considered his own statement. 

“Will he come after you?” Sokka breathed out as he remembered Zuko’s offhand comment about his scar. He figured that it wasn’t the first time Zuko’s father had injured him but it had been the last and Sokka intended to keep it that way.

Zuko shrugged and then chuckled as if sharing an inside joke with himself. “I mean I’m emotionally dead already. My body should match my soul, don’t you think?”   
“Does it not already? You aren’t emotionally dead, you're traumatized and scared. Part of you is still that little boy afraid of being beaten again, and with your father out of prison there is nothing to stop that happening in your mind. I don’t think you even believe what happened to you was wrong, do you?” Zuko shrugged again. 

“I want to show you something. I don’t know if you will find it helpful but if you’re going to die I’d rather show you now.” Sokka got up and beckoned Zuko to the gate. He stood up heavily and scowled. 

“I hope it’s worth it.” Sokka’s answering grin was blinding. 

They walked to the main drag of the town and Sokka led him to the far end of it. There was a small art supply store, still open despite the late hour, crammed between a bakery and a photo gallery. Sokka pulled the door open and followed Zuko in. The shop was small but not cramped, almost homey. Zuko turned to his left and scrutinized the girl behind the counter. 

“ Sokka, is that you?” She exclaimed as she turned around, “Long time no see, and you brought a friend?” Zuko’s scowl deepened and Sokka laughed. 

“Toph, You can’t see! So technically it’s been forever because you’ve never actually seen me.” Toph feigned anger and Zuko tuned out her response in favour of observing her. 

She was short in stature but her face appeared to be a few years older than Zuko. Her inky black hair was piled on top of her head in a short bun, held off her face with a headband except for two sections which framed her face. Her milky eyes were kind, and her mouth was pulled up in a smirk. 

“Like what you see, stranger?” She snorted at her joke. 

Zuko looked down at the floor. 

“Did her just look down, Sokka?” Toph laughed.

“How did you know I was looking at you if you can’t see?” Zuko asked suddenly. 

“ ‘How did you know?’ he says. I have ears sparky and I use them.” Zuko rolled his eyes and spun on his heel down an aisle of sketching supplies. 

“Zuko’s shy, I apologize for him.” Sokka said. 

“Ah! So this is the famous Zuko you can’t shut up about. I have to say, I expected someone who could match your precious energy.” Toph teased as Sokka headed to find Zuko. 

“ I started coming here when my dad left to get out of the house and I used art to cope with the loss.” Sokka said as he flipped through an empty sketchbook.

“And you did a shit job of it until I pushed your ass into therapy.” Toph pipes up as Sokka rolls his eyes fondly. 

“Any way,” He continues loudly, “ I think it might help you, art or writing can be very therapeutic.” He gestured around. 

“I want to get you a sketchbook and some drawing pencils, I would give you one of mine but they’re all pretty beat up.” Seemingly done with his reasoning, he starts down the aisle pointing out different sketchbooks with Zuko in tow.

Zuko follows silently, stewing, his father was out of prison and Sokka wanted him to...draw? Who did he think he was? Zuko threw himself into a chair by the entrance to the shop as Sokka made a second pass up the aisle and his face darkened. 

“Hey, rude ass. Sokka is trying to help you out, the least you could do is try it.” Toph walked over to him and he raised his head.

“I never asked him to do anything for me. Also, why is this any of your business?” Zuko shot back.

“It’s my store sparky, anything that goes on in it is considered my business.” she shrugs expansively. “Look, I don’t know you and I won’t unless you want me to. But I DO know Sokka and he seems to care about you a lot. I’ve known Sokka for years and he has never brought another person in here except for his sister once.” She shakes her head.

“ Look, all I’m trying to say is, give it, give him, a shot. He can be a complete idiot and a bit of a dick but he is a good friend and an even better artist.” She puts her hands halfway between them but doesn’t touch him, Zuko’s eyebrows shoot up. 

“Soka told you...about my...issues?” Zuko whispers haltingly and Toph looks confused. 

“No. Whatever you told Sokka will remain between you two until he dies unless you say otherwise. I know how it feels to be touched without consent and find doing so to others, in any fashion, to be repulsive.” Zuko’s eyes widen at the hidden meaning behind her words and, steeling himself places his hands in hers.

She squeezes them slightly, “No one who comes here this late is whole Zuko. Not Sokka, not me, and I suspect you aren’t either. Our past traumas are a part of us but they do not make up our whole self.” She squeezes his hands again lightly and lets go. 

Zuko flinches but for once it’s not because of the touch but because of her words. Her words make him feel so known, so seen. And being known is a terrifying prospect for a boy who has spent his whole life hiding things he didn’t want others to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and kudos are appreciated! 
> 
> Happy reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko is a ball of anxiety and self loathing, Sokka is a good bean and Toph has all the braincells. 
> 
> TW: descriptions of a panic attack, implied/referenced child abuse and homophobia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the lovely person who commented on chapter 7 on Saturday. Your comment pushed me to type up this chapter, thank you! 
> 
> As for my...hiatus? Leave of absence? Non updating period? I will slowly be coming back to a semi-regular updating period, thank you for your kudos, reads and lovely comments.

Zuko’s heart stops. And restarts. He stares dumbly at Toph as his mind swirls into a miasma of panic, what else did she know? Did she know he was defective? Dimly, through the panic attack, he can hear her call his name. But he’s stuck, stuck looking into his fathers eyes, stuck hearing his mother’s screaming, stuck feeling the impact of the fire poker on his skin. He’s too far gone. 

“Zuko? Zuko, It’s Sokka. Can you hear me? ” Sokka returned from his browsing, at Toph’s quiet request, to find Zuko bent double on his stool barely breathing. Toph retreats to the back room to give them some privacy for which Sokka will be forever grateful. “Zuko. You’re in the art store with Sokka, your father is not here, I am. I am here and I am going to put my arms around you if that’s okay?” Zuko jerks his chin and Sokka's arms weave around his back easing him to the floor in front of Sokka who hums and taps Zuko on the back. 

“Can I put one of your hands on my chest where my collarbones are? It will give you a reference to slow your breathing and you’ll be able to feel the vibrations while I talk to prove that it’s me.” Zuko, who can hear again, reaches a hand toward the other boy’s chest, knocking his knuckles against the collarbones in question. Sokka maneuvers the hand flat and starts humming again, breathing slowly. Zuko belatedly starts to follow the breathing pattern and comes back to the present, starts to feel the floor beneath him, Sokka in front of him and his arms behind his body. Zuko’s eyes open and Sokka smiles at him. “Hey, you’re back. How’re you feeling?” 

“Not very fun, but alive.” Zuko’s voice is scratchy like he’s been screaming, was he screaming? He didn’t know. Sokka seemed to notice the hesitation.

“It’s from the hyperventilation that’s all. Hey Toph, can you grab us some water?” 

Toph has returned from the back room and ducks behind the register to grab three waters for all of them. She hands two to Sokka and sits next to the boys while uncapping her bottle and taking a few swallows. 

“Are your hands steady enough to open the bottle?” Zuko rolls his eyes but Sokka opens the bottle anyway. He opens his mouth to protest but nothing comes out, looking at Sokka’s face there’s no pity, like he expected to find, just sorrow and slight worry. So Zuko takes the bottle without a word. 

“Well that was the replica of Sokka’s first visit if I ever saw one. I take back what I said. Sokka, he’s exactly like you.” She chuckles. Sokka’s ears turn red and Toph is full on cackling now. 

“Come on Sokka, I know you remember. You walked in here near midnight, I was just about to close the shop, and you sat right on that damn stool hyperventilating all over my new floor. And then you just locked up, like stock still, and you left and the little shit you were, you did it again the next night. By the time we were friends you were so emotionally constipated, you wouldn’t let anyone near you, not Katara, not me, you told Aang to ‘go hug someone who meant something.’ We call that stool the breakdown stool, I need to get a tag for it.” 

“That’s not fair. I hugged Appa and absolutely, maybe Katara can make you a plaque.” Sokka sticks his nose up and Toph laughs harder, even Zuko starts to feel his mouth quirk up. 

“I ran out on my uncle…I should get back.” Zuko finally says a half hour later and Sokka gets up to leave. He hugs Toph and Zuko reaches out with one hand. 

“Remember what I said about Sokka.” Toph says as she grasps his hand and in full view of Zuko tucks a small sketchpad/notebook into his pocket with a pencil. Sokka walks him to the skatepark and they part ways. 

“Sokka.” Zuko calls out when they reach the park and split off, “Thank you...for earlier, and for taking me to meet Toph. I appreciate it.”  
“You’re welcome Zuko, I’m glad you enjoyed it. I hoped you and Toph might hit it off, she’s right you know, about our similarities. Our trauma is different but I know panic attacks in and out, don’t even get me started on social anxiety and depression.” Sokka gives him a half smile and walks off. 

When Zuko makes it home his mind is swimming in all things Sokka and he thinks he might be okay with it. 

He climbs through the window and flops onto his bed. The sketchbook Toph had given him tumbles out of his pocket and onto the bed. He opens it and written in neat script is a phone number, Toph’s his brains adds helpfully, as he adds it into his phone. 

Hey, It’s Zuko.

Hey Sparky

Thank you again, for everything.

Not a problem lemme know when you and  
Sokka decide to get your butts back here ;)

He leaves it on read and stares up at the ceiling trying to categorize his day. Ozai was out of prison, oh shit. Sokka and him bonded...again, Oof. Toph didn’t hate him yet, thank god. 

The Sokka situation was too similar, too like the other boy, god he he couldn’t even say his name. He tries to call it up in his memory, the boy that brought so much of his fathers rage upon Zuko that morning and that boy’s parents rage, for a simple hickey, what was his name…

“Jet” He whispers to the darkness. That was his name, Jet, and for what? A hickey...companionship for a night. Zuko learned two things that morning.

One, his sister was a carbon copy of their father, ugly sneer and penchant for violence included. 

And Two, Zuko was alone, and that was the way it needed to be. He wouldn’t, couldn’t date, and wouldn’t allow himself to ever become that close to someone again, for both their sakes. He couldn’t redo that night or morning for Jet or himself, but he would make damn sure it never happened because of him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As previously stated, comments and kudos push me to write and improve. 
> 
> Happy Reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Zuko gives himself a chance, Sokka snoops and is the OG bi disaster, and Toph sort of accepts a bribe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my gremlins. 
> 
> I'm back...again in the same week. Which is unheard of for me, have a slightly longer fluffy chapter that I felt I needed to write.

Zuko woke up to sunlight streaming through the window and the steady beeping of his alarm clock. His right eye cracked open a slit to aim his hand toward the snooze button on his alarm clock. A bone deep groan emanated and he pushed himself into a sitting position just as Iroh knocked on the door and entered with a cup of what smelled suspiciously like coffee and a smile. 

“Good morning nephew, I took the liberty of saving you from the morning shift due to your night.” Iroh sat on the edge of the bed and brushed a hand over Zuko’s raven hair and Zuko sighed. 

“I apologize uncle, for running out last night. I did not know how to handle the fact that...my father...is out of prison and most likely coming to kill me.” Iroh frowns deeply at that. 

“You worry. You are not alone in your worry, but Zuko you are not the boy that you used to be even though you think you are. You have become more of a man these past three years than my former brother could ever hope to be. Last I heard, Ozai was settling back into his role and setting Azula up for college. We will deal with what comes, you and I and perhaps your friend, he seems very fond of you.” 

“Uncle.” Zuko bites out in warning and Iroh smiles, pats Zuko’s head and leaves Zuko to his thoughts. 

His head thumps against the headboard the second Iroh is out of his room and Zuko reaches for his cup, balancing it on a jean clad leg so as to not burn his hands. He knows logically that Ozai is probably too busy being a millionaire to pay much attention to what his disowned son was doing but the age old panic wouldn’t leave. Deep down he knew Iroh was right, no matter how much he didn't want to admit it, he was still a boy. Scared of his father but looking for any redeeming quality, any hint of praise in his own actions that he could find and savoring those few moments. 

“Fuck.” He sighs. “Fucking dad. Fucking Azula. Fuck!” He punctuates the last profane statement with another slam to the headboard. The coffee is forgotten as the anger rises to the surface to quell the panic. He knew he wasn’t angry at anyone except himself but at the moment Zuko allowed himself to pretend that he was angry at everything. Everything that went wrong, angry with his mother for leaving and his father for being his father, he was angry that Iroh and Toph could see right through him, and most of all he was angry that Sokka cared about him. 

Other people’s feelings were not something Zuko was familiar with, granted he could read a room better than anyone and the slightest shift in body language or mood was calculated and factored away in Zuko’s brain. But where emotions came from and how they were expressed was foreign to him. Sokka was a math problem that Zuko couldn’t solve because he wasn’t angry, Zuko realized with a start that he had never seen Sokka truly angry, heartbroken, yes, but angry, never. 

Zuko sipped his coffee and brushed his fingers over the sketchbook that Toph had gifted him, he had left it on his bed the previous night, feeling too tired to get up and put it away. He continued to drink the coffee, which he discovered contentedly had both creamer and sugar in it, and think.

When the cup was empty it was set aside onto the nightstand, he had told Toph he would try again and he would, he would give art another chance it had been at least a year since he had burned the last of his brushes . He tied his hair into a braid and grabbed the assorted mediums gifted to him. He pulled out a charcoal pencil and crossed his legs, he snarled at the sketchbook and finally he opened it to the first blank page and began again. 

Meanwhile, in a faded window Sokka was scheming. He called it scheming, Katara always called it “The man with a plan phase” on account of the way he tended to tap his fingers rhythmically against any surface available. He was thinking about Zuko and he was thinking about Zuko’s reaction to Toph, he knew Zuko was an artist and he had hoped that the two would have bonded over that but with Zuko’s flashback he wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to talk to Zuko because Zuko would probably brush it off, which meant he was taking another trip to bribe Toph to help him. 

An hour later he was meandering his way into the White Lotus art supply, homemade cookies in hand, in search of Toph. She was curled up in the front corner of the shop in a chair with a book. 

“Jane Austen again?” Sokka called out as he poked his head in. 

“You know, if you read classical literature you might learn a thing or two about interrupting a lady while she’s reading.” Came the muffled reply. 

“You’re such a lesbian.” He huffed as he set the cookies within reach and sat in the window seat in front of her. 

“You’re such a rude gay.” She mentally marks her page and closes her book. “You brought me chocolate chip cookies. What do you want?” 

“I’m wounded, can’t I just do something nice for a friend every so often.” She snorts and raises an eyebrow as her hand reaches for the cookies. “Alright, Alright. Don’t give me that look and- Hey! Don’t you smirk at me. You and Zuko talked last night, I want to know what you talked about and why he panicked so hard.” 

“You should know better than anyone that I don’t spill secrets to others. Just as I know you don’t.” Toph munches on her cookie as Sokka frowns, the problem is he does know that and he knows that he wouldn’t divulge anything to Toph if it had been her snooping around about Zuko either. 

“Will you come with me to see him then? I worry about him and his uncle runs that tea shop a couple streets up, The Jasmine Dragon. It’s so good, Zuko made theses poppy seed muffins that were to die for.” 

“You don’t have to beg me Sokka, I like Zuko, he really does remind me of you. Suki should be here in a half hour and we can go then if it’s agreeable to you?” 

“I guess.” Sokka lets out a long suffering sigh. “How is Suki by the way, I keep meaning to text her but I’ve been so busy with-” He gestures lazily “stuff.” 

“You really are a bi disaster. You and Suki have been split up for how long? At least a year. The least you could do is try to be friends with her, she adores you as a friend, you know that. To answer your question, she’s alright, still single which I guess is a win for me but she’s alright. Her flowers healed.” 

“I know,” He groans. “I know, I miss her. I just haven’t gotten there yet. I’m glad her tattoo healed though, where is it?” 

Toph looks dreamy, “It’s an upper arm sleeve, sunflowers and roses for her mom.” Sokka giggles. 

“You just called me a bi disaster. I think your thoughts make up the ultimate lesbian pining minus Sappho, who was the OG lesbian.” 

Toph swats at him half heartedly and Sokka laughs until he’s as red in the face as Toph. When he’s recovered he asks about her newest Jane Austen book which he knows will set her off on a rant about Mr. Darcy that is long enough to wait out the time until Suki takes over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always comments and kudos really do fuel me to write more so please please do drop a comment if you feel comfortable. 
> 
> Also, so I was reading back over my previous chapters and I have found that I feel the story has kind of done a 180 from the original theme.  
> I would like to hear your thoughts on that and if you would prefer I resume the previous elements or if you kind of like where it's heading and want me to continue with that. Please lemme know.
> 
> Anywho, Happy Reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank for reading!


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